Better than Dreaming
by Evil Willow
Summary: Spike stands outside Buffy's house, as usual, and contemplates what he's been reduced to.


Better than Dreaming (1/1)  
Author: Evil Willow  
Rating: PG-13   
Keywords: Spike-angst.  
Spoilers: All of BtVS including Fool for Love, and Into the Woods  
Category: Songfic/Angst  
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Joss Whedon, the WB   
and FOX. The lyrics are from Watching You by Melissa Etheridge. No   
copyright infringement intended, on either thing. I'm not getting   
anything out of this, other than personal enjoyment. If you sue me,   
all you'll get is two cats.   
Summary: Spike is contemplating what he's been reduced to.   
Author's Notes: I'm on a songfic kick, in case you haven't noticed. I   
know, I have a ton of other fics I should be posting, but I'm easily   
distracted by the muses.   
Author's Notes2: Fic is Spike's Point of View.   
// //= Lyrics. * * = Emphasis.   
Dedications: To Dru, she's getting so prolific I had to attempt to   
keep up. ;-) Also to anyone who's ever sent me feedback, because it   
keeps me writing!  
  
**********  
  
I duck behind a tree when she walks up to her house looking   
pretty ... Upset? Sad? Whatever, I'm not too good at telling what   
she feels. Ever. Dunno if she'd really feel like staking me now for   
showing her The Boytoy's extra-curricular activities, but I don't   
much care to find out either.   
  
Aw shit. I just *had* to look in the living room window, why'd I do   
that? I could've done without seeing that she's doing it again.   
Crying. Because all the sudden I feel these revolting urges to go in   
to her, comfort her, write her poetry, and all that rot. I'm   
pathetic. I make *myself* sick. I used to be William the effin'   
Bloody, part of the terrifying Scourge of Europe! But now ... now I'm   
just William again, the boy who could never get the girl. I've been   
reduced to a puppy dog by a Slayer. Like Sire like Childe, I suppose.   
The great irony of it all is that she wanted to bring me down, but   
not like this, I'd wager.  
  
//That's a good question  
Why am I standing out here alone  
I guess I don't know enough to come in from the rain  
I was watching your window  
From here below  
I think I just might stay here all day  
Cause I gotta do something//  
  
I'm a shell of the vamp I used to be, and it's all her fault. She had   
to be all annoying and irritating and nice-smelling and pretty and   
sexy and ... and ....bloody hell I'd risk the torments of hell for   
just one kiss. Did I mention I'm pathetic? I wish I had the nerve to   
dust myself. I wish Red and Chubs hadn't walked in on me when I   
attempted it months ago. I'd never be in this mess, that's for bloody   
sure.   
  
It's raining now. That's fine. I don't mind, really. Just keep   
pouring the humiliation down, whoever's up there. Cuz now I'm a   
pathetic, lovelorn, *wet* puppyvamp. I sigh, and pull my duster   
around myself tighter. I finally locate my box of smokes and light   
one. It's gonna be another long night, but hopefully it can't get any   
worse.   
  
I look up at the window to her room and --  
  
"SPIKE!"  
  
"BLOODY 'ELL!" I yell, as I jump and turn around to face the person   
who just scared me into dropping my cigarette in the mud. Oh that's   
just *wonderful*; this night just keeps getting better! All it needs   
is my crazed soulless sire, my crazed Dru and the demon Acathla;   
except I think *I'll* jump into the portal to hell this time   
around. "Buffy..."   
  
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!" she screams. "COME BACK TO RUB IT IN?!   
HUH?!!!!" She shoves me, hard, against the tree trunk, and I let her.   
S'pose I deserve it if she wants to beat me up.   
  
"No," I say with a shrug. "I didn't... I'm ... You had to know, Bu--   
Slayer."   
  
"Go to hell," she whispers with more venom than I knew she had in   
her. Damn that hurt, though, like that almost-stake to the heart   
earlier never could. She turns and walks back into her house, missing   
my whispered reply.   
  
"Gladly."   
  
//If I can't love you  
I don't want to love you  
If I can't hold you  
I don't want to be thinking of you  
And if you don't want me  
I don't want to want you  
And if you won't see me  
I don't know what to do  
But oh keep watching you  
Until I see right through  
Oh I keep watching you//  
  
I love her. I sure as hell don't *want* to love her, but I didn't get   
a say in the matter. I want to hold her, and make love to her. Yes,   
that's right. I *don't* want sex, that wouldn't be enough for me   
anymore. But I can't even *try* to hold her, because she doesn't want   
me within five miles. Since that's the case, I try not to think about   
her, I try to occupy my time with killing things. Things translates   
to demons, since my surgery. Funny thing about killing demons,   
though, is it doesn't do anything for me. Go figure.   
  
So I find myself watching her, more nights than I care to admit.   
Watching her helps to ease the ache. I can follow her around and   
watch her without any fear of discovery most of the time. But that's   
not because I'm so sneaky; it's only because I just don't register on   
her demon-radar anymore. Take just now, a year ago she'd have known I   
was here the minute she'd gotten within fifty feet of me. That's   
because she *used* to think of me as a dangerous enemy; and if I was   
good at what I did, maybe she even hated me.   
  
Now, if she thinks of me at all, I'm a bothersome nuisance. More   
likely, though, she *doesn't* think of me now. I'm beneath her, not   
worth the time it would take her *to* think about me. I know all of   
this, I'm not stupid. It hurts like hell to put myself through the   
torment, but I don't know what else to bloody *do*. I keep hoping   
that some night soon, I'll see right through her, discover something   
about her that makes me *not* want her so much. I can hope, can't I?  
  
I said I wasn't stupid, but that's not quite true. I *am* stupid when   
it comes to love. Always have been. I always love the ones who don't   
love me back.   
  
I loved my sire, once upon a time, 'til I figured out why I was so   
useful to him. I was just an occasional distraction, a some-time   
killing partner, and most of all, a toy to attempt to break. Drusilla   
was too easy on that last one, so he moved on to me. He never   
succeeded in breaking me, though. Not that he knew about, anyway.   
  
Then there was Dru. I loved her with all of my unbeating heart. But I   
was nothing more than a substitute for Angelus, her precious Daddy.   
She wanted love, didn't get it from him, so she settled for mine. She   
still preferred his torture to my love, though, when he was willing   
to bestow it on her.   
  
So why didn't I see this coming??? Why didn't I realize I was doomed   
from the moment I saw her in that highschool of hers??? She fits the   
m.o. perfectly! I *should* have stayed away from Sunnyhell when I   
left with Dru last time. I'd at least have *her* semi-affection now,   
and that's a lot better than Buffy's indifference.  
  
//You could throw me down a cigarette  
I smoked my last one quite a while ago  
No, I gave it to the man that swore he had no need  
You know sometimes if I listen real close  
I can hear the dark side of the moon  
And there's always yesterday's Times if I care to read  
And I gotta do something//  
  
I reach into my pockets, digging for my pack of smokes. I was wrong   
when I thought the night   
couldn't get any worse. Because it just has: I'm out of smokes. The   
object of my desire caused me to drop the last one in the mud! I   
groan as I remember that I'm out of money, so I'm outta luck on   
getting more anytime soon.   
  
I look around as I hear talking. There's nobody around, must've been   
my imagination. I look up and see the moon, peering out from behind a   
cloud. I could swear it's smiling at me. Maybe I'm going insane, that   
would be a nice change, I guess. I do know I've been out here too   
long, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. Tomorrow I'll   
bring the paper to read.   
  
//If I can't love you  
I don't want to love you  
If I can't hold you  
I don't want to be thinking of you  
And if you don't want me  
I don't want to want you  
And if you won't see me  
I don't know what to do  
But oh keep watching you  
Until I see right through  
Oh I keep watching you//  
  
She steps back out her door, and I'm hit by that feeling again. I'm   
all warm and fuzzy inside. She's absolutely the most beautiful   
creature I've ever seen. She's got her hair pulled back, and has her   
black leather pants and a black tank-top on. Looks like she's ready   
to play. Too damn bad I can't oblige her in a good fight. It'd do us   
both some good. We could simultaneously work out her pent-up anger at   
the world and my pent-up feelings for her.   
  
//Sure I'm alright  
No I'm not very cold  
Every now and then I can feel the subway heat  
So go on inside  
I'll leave you alone  
Anyway Bogart's on in the window down the street  
And I gotta do something//  
  
She sees me and cocks her head to the side, in that cute way she has   
when she's contemplating something. She walks up, and looks me up and   
down appraisingly. "You're wet," she says. "Cold?" Well, I never said   
her *brilliance* was one of the reasons that I loved her....  
  
"I'm fine," I say with a shrug, trying not to notice how her top hugs   
all the right places and I'm not even going to mention how her her   
pants.... "I'll get off your lawn now," I mumble as I turn to go. I   
*really* have a lot of energy to work off now, I think I'll go back   
to the crypt and put Harmony to good use.  
  
"Wait."   
  
So what do I do? I stop in my tracks and turn around again, of   
course. Whipped puppyvamp, at your service.   
  
"Do you...." she sighs and looks at the ground. Well, this is   
interesting. She looks uncomfortable and nervous. Why?  
  
"Do I what, Sla... Buffy?" I reply, careful to keep my voice   
neutral. Apparently I do still have a sense of self-preservation.  
I don't wanna cause a random staking or anything else of that   
nature.  
  
"I don't suppose you want to patrol... with me... do you?" she   
finally asks, after spending a lot of time examining her shoes. She   
looks up at me, and I literally melt at the uncertain,   
wary ...frightened?... look in her eyes. Like she'd fall apart if I   
said a nasty word. Bloody hell, I have to stifle a growl, cuz I just   
figured it out! Commando-Boy did this to her! If he isn't far away   
from Sunnydale already, I'm gonna have to call in a few favors and   
get him killed!   
  
I bite back all of the multitude of Spike-like sarcastic responses   
she's probably expecting, and nod reassuringly instead. "Sure. Got   
nothin' else to do," I say. I swear she bloody *beams* at me, before   
regaining her composure and saying, "Come on then," a demand more   
than a request, accompanied by a scowl. But it doesn't matter, I'm   
still feeling the effects of the earlier look: it made me all nice   
and toasty inside. Rain? What rain?   
  
I fall into step beside her, and we head downtown in silence to fight   
off some demons. So this, in a nutshell, is what I've been reduced   
to: I'd rather fight my own kind, for the chance to be near her; than   
stand on the sidelines watching and daydreaming about her. Because   
her bored indifference is far better than dreaming of what will never   
be.   
  
//If I can't love you  
I don't want to love you  
If I can't hold you  
I don't want to be thinking of you  
And if you don't want me  
I don't want to want you  
And if you won't see me  
I don't know what to do  
But oh keep watching you  
Until I see right through  
Oh I keep watching you//  
  
***************  
End  



End file.
